Performance Management
by brandstifterin
Summary: Part of Serena Campbell's new role as Executive Director of Surgery is regular meetings with Henrik Hanssen, something that they both dread. Or do they?
1. Chapter 1

**AN: I know! I have several other stories on the go and where are the updates for them? They're being written bit by bit but this one wouldn't let me rest until I'd started it and written quite a bit of it.**

**This will probably reference some events in 'Push the Button (pt.1)' when Hanssen returns to Holby but is unlikely to mention anything else so this is strictly AU from the middle of January. I'm most certainly ignoring Adrienne McKinnie; as well as that storyline was done, it has no place here and would provide a distraction that I don't need. So Serena's mother is hale and hearty and will remain so as far as this tale is concerned. **

**This won't have too many chapters, around ten perhaps, unlikely to be any more than fifteen chapters, the basic outline is already written (makes a change, believe me). This story starts just after Hanssen's return and the two main character's do not like each other... but they will, they just don't know it yet. :-)**

**All the usual disclaimers apply – I don't own anything Holby-related; I'm merely playing in their sandbox and I will put all the characters back when I'm done in a better condition than I found them. **

**One final thing - you may recognise a reference to a comment from Catherine Russell at one point. Bonus points if you get it. **

...

Performance Management

Chapter One.

"Very well, Ms. Campbell; I shall send you an email with the meeting time."

"Fine," Serena answers, trying to mask her annoyance. "Well, if there's nothing else?"

Hanssen shakes his head and Serena stands, quickly making her way out of the boardroom; the other senior consultants have long since departed the meeting room, leaving only the Director of Surgery and the newly-elected Executive Director of Surgery. Serena is eager to leave and put as much distance between her and the Swede as she can.

"Please shut the door quietly on your way out." Serena's step falters slightly and she sneers, almost sorry at knowing that Hanssen won't be able to see her expression. He's been back a week from wherever he was holed up in Sweden and it's been seven days of thinly-veiled mockery and Serena wonders how on earth she dealt with the arrogant and condescending man before his sabbatical without entertaining frequent ideas of the man's death.

As her hand closes on the door handle, Serena briefly entertains the idea of slamming the door or deliberately leaving it ajar as she strides off down the corridor, resolutely ignoring what was, until recently, her office. In the end, she does neither, deciding that the fleeting sense of satisfaction she'll derive from her moment of rebellion won't be worth the hassle she'll get in the long run.

As Serena gets into the lift, she glances at her watch, scowling as she realises that Hanssen has delayed her elective; since her appointment as Executive Director of Surgery, she is bound by the same European Working Time Regulations which limit her surgeries to three per week and she is damned if she is going to miss thirty three percent of her weekly theatre time because of the Swede's self-importance.

"Sorry I'm late," Serena calls over to the registrar stood over the patient; she'd changed into scrubs in record time and scrubbed in as quickly as she can allow.

"Too busy having fun with the boss man?" Malick teases gently and Serena rolls her eyes.

"Ugh, hardly – I've seen more life in the morgue." Serena grimaces after responding and she shoots a warning glare at Malick – she probably shouldn't have said that but Malick deliberately ignores her look, knowing better than to repeat her comment. "Anyway, how did you know that's where I was?" Serena asks, watching the registrar make an incision.

"Ric told me." The younger surgeon answers casually a few moments later.

"Of course he did," Serena mutters tiredly, just loud enough for Malick to hear.

"_He_ did at least tell me _you_ might be late." Malick points out, defending his friend and Serena's fellow consultant on Keller. Serena hums, not convinced that Ric's actions were as altruistic as Malick is portraying. "So what did the big H want? Any news from on high or an explanation for his absence and equally sudden reappearance?"

"Not a bloody word." Serena grumbles under her mask, Hanssen still isn't saying anything and it's driving her mad – they deserve some kind of an explanation. She's given up any hope of thanks for stepping into the breach and running the hospital in his absence and frowns in response to Malick's amusement.

"Well, he obviously has his reasons for keeping shtum, I suppose we just have to respect his wishes." Malick responds sagely, looking at her over his face mask.

"Have I missed something? When did you decide to turn into Ric Griffin?" Serena mocks.

"We could do worse than channelling the Griffmeister." Malick informs her and Serena huffs, far from convinced. She'd rather not channel Ric, the man's borderline pedestrian speed is nearly as infuriating as Hanssen's constant rudeness. Serena glares at Malick in mock annoyance and the registrar chuckles, if they weren't in theatre, they both know that she would probably cuff him.

"Careful," she warns him, the scalpel close to catching a blood vessel and Malick's complete focus returns to the table in front of him and Serena picks up an instrument from a tray offered by a scrub nurse, ready to take over once Malick's bit is complete.

A couple of hours later, the patient has been taken to recovery and baring any unforeseen complications, should be discharged sooner rather than later to Serena's satisfaction. The two surgeons make their way back onto the ward and Serena heads to the staff changing room to change back into her everyday clothes, not wanting to stay in scrubs any longer than she has to. She isn't often self-conscious about her appearance but Keller's red scrubs do nothing for her and she can't help but think of a giant, red raspberry any time she catches sight of her reflection, not quite the look she was aiming for.

...

Placing a recently acquired cup of tea on her desk, Serena boots up her laptop, unable to put off delaying her paperwork for any longer. As she waits, she fastens her necklace back around her neck; the jewellery was a present from her Dad before he died and although she removes it for surgery, it barely leaves her neck the rest of the time. Running her fingers over the cool metal and glass pendant, Serena thinks of her father briefly and then her mother, making a mental note to ring and catch up. She has been too busy recently and hasn't spoken to her mum since a quick chat on Christmas Day morning.

The laptop beeps impatiently at Serena, bringing her attention back into the office and she realises that she has accidentally lent an elbow on one of the keys. Serena logs into her hospital email account, typing the password with one hand as the other reaches blindly for her mug of tea.

She only has one new message since she last checked her emails earlier this afternoon, it's a rare and pleasant discovery and she takes a grateful mouthful of tea as she double clicks on the one email from 'Henrik Hanssen', resigning herself to being his paperwork gopher for a little while longer.

Serena doesn't know what it was that she said in response to Hanssen's email, the response is involuntary but she is aware that her outburst is enough to make Ric looks up sharply from his desk. Blinking to clear her eyes, Serena re-reads the message, hoping to find that she had misread it but there is no mistake.

"Serena?" Ric's tone is a little wary, as if he doesn't really want to know what has caused such a reaction but feels obliged to ask.

"I can't believe that man." It takes her a few seconds to respond, by which time Ric had returned to whatever it was that he was doing before Serena interrupted him.

"What has he done now?" Serena half-watches Ric take his glasses off and lay them on the desk in front of him, on top of the folder he was updating.

"He has scheduled our meeting for 7pm on Friday." She tells her colleague, chosing to ignore the way Ric sighs as she reads out part of Hanssen's message, her tone revealing her disdain for the idea.

"So?"

"So even if he doesn't, I have a life outside this hospital-"

"As well as a nice, shiny, new title." Ric interrupts and reminds her and Serena looks at her colleague, wondering if Ric is in any way bitter about the fact that Hanssen picked her over him.

"I have a life outside this hospital," she repeats, pretending to ignore Ric's contribution. "And I'm not willing to sacrifice what little time I do get to spend with Eleanor to sit there and listen to Hanssen's barbs and insults."

"Why don't you tell him that then?" Serena huffs, exasperated at her colleague's suggestions.

"If you don't have anything actually useful to say, Ric..." She shoots him a glare.

"Apart from to say that I find myself glad that I wasn't picked for a job I didn't want in the first place?" Serena scowls. "I'm sure you'll both learn an awful lot from the experience." Saying nothing further, Ric replaces his glasses and ignores Serena as he reaches behind him to turn up his music a fraction and continues to update his patient folders.

Serena doesn't say anything further about Ric's music, she has quite liked his selection this morning but her focus has been reduced to the email on the screen in front of her.

_Ms. Campbell,_

_Further to our discussion this afternoon, I have scheduled a meeting for this Friday at 7pm._

_Regards_

_HH_

...

Serena opens the only door on the fifth floor which has a light still on behind it; 'everyone else having already left and gone home to their families', she grumbles to herself, still annoyed at the Swede's decision to host this meeting after 7pm on a Friday, more than an hour after her shift has finished.

Serena deliberately omits the knock, in a somewhat childish attempt to rile and provoke a response from the stoic Swede. However, to her disappointment, aside from slightly pursing his lips, Hanssen doesn't react at all, his focus entirely on the screen in front of him.

Fed up already, Serena shuts the door smartly, she is in a bit of a fractious mood and barely avoids throwing herself into the familiar chair on the visitor's side of the desk; something that infuriates Serena to no end when her daughter does it and she doesn't waste any time, letting Hanssen know, non-verbally that she isn't happy to be here, it's the end of the week and she wants to be on her way home and definitely doesn't want to be just sitting down in a meeting with Henrik Hanssen.

Hanssen, almost as if he is expecting Serena's behaviour, continues to ignore her and part of Serena wants to know what is so interesting on the screen he is intently staring at. Looking down at her watch, she notes that it is just past seven pm, she was on time, if not early and elects to give Hanssen one more minute to finish what he was doing.

In reality, Serena's patience only lasts about twenty seconds and when Hanssen still makes no effort to even acknowledge her presence, she decides that she has had enough of the man's rudeness. If he can't be bothered to start the meeting that _he_ arranged, then, as far as Serena is concerned, the man can whistle and they can do this at some point on Monday.

"Forget it," she mutters, standing up, she is ready to go home, put her feet up with a small glass of something and hear Eleanor moan about boys. 'Wait 'til you get to my age', she wryly thinks, 'they don't get any better'.

"Sit down, Ms. Campbell." Hanssen's voice breaks the silence, his authoritative tone simultaneously encouraging her to obey as well as rebel against his instruction and she whirls around on the spot to face him, her loose shirt billowing slightly as she does.

"Just so you can ignore me?" Serena questions, not waiting for an answer. "I don't think so."

"Sit down, Ms. Campbell." Hanssen repeats his command in a voice which would probably make most of the other staff quiver in fear. Serena laughs humourlessly at Hanssen's threat to remove her from her position as Executive Director of Surgery should she take a single step outside of the room.

"I'm sure that Terrance would overrule you on that." Serena responds instantly, enjoying the restrained reaction by the Swede. Although in actuality, Serena can barely stand the smarmy and utterly ineffective Chairman of the Board, the point is that Hanssen doesn't know that, 'and neither does Cunningham, come to think of it', Serena thinks to herself. Her casual use of the Chairman's name is designed to remind Hanssen that although he is currently at the top of the hospital food chain, his present position is far from secure and that she _is_ currently flavour of the month.

"The sooner you cooperate, Ms. Campbell, the sooner we can finish." Serena huffs, the man is never going to admit his own culpability and she just wants to go home and get this week over and done with.

The meeting starts and continues on in the same vein, the obvious distrust apparent on both sides as they talk about Serena's new role and its responsibilities; it takes nearly an hour of haggling and negotiation before Hanssen calls an end to the meeting and if Serena wasn't entertaining thoughts about strangling Hanssen before, she is now.

Serena escapes as soon as she can, offering a sarcastic, "have a good weekend." Hanssen seems unperturbed and merely leans back in his chair before responding in kind.

and just as Serena's hand closes around the door handle, she hears him mention that there will be another meeting at the same time next Friday. Scowling at the door, Serena doesn't respond, pretending not to hear him and leaves the room, almost marching down the corridor, towards her freedom.

As she heads home, later than she would have liked, she casts her mind back over the week she's had. Serena and Hanssen may be forced to work together but she doubts that they will ever get over the mutual mistrust, let alone like one another. She toys with the idea of picking up a take-away as a treat for not murdering the Swede.

Scowling at the door, Serena doesn't respond and leaves the room, almost marching down the corridor towards her freedom. Collecting her bag from her office, Serena texts her daughter, suggesting an Indian take-away as a treat for not murdering the Swede. Putting her bag on the passenger seat of her car, Serena's phone vibrates with a message and she fishes it out, squinting at the bright screen, it's Eleanor.

_'Korma please x'_

Serena starts her car, heading home much later than she would have liked, casting her mind back over the week she's had; Serena and Hanssen may be forced to work together but she doubts that they will ever get over the mutual mistrust, let alone like one another. She pulls out of the hospital grounds, heading towards the Holby ring road, glad that the meeting is over and she can finally put Henrik Hanssen out of her mind until the Monday morning warzone and is looking forward to putting her feet up with a curry and a couple of glasses of something cold.

...

**AN: There will be another meeting next week with a bit more friction too :-) **

**Looking forward to hearing/reading what you thought of this start and as always, any feedback would be gratefully received.**


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you all for your lovely reviews, messages, follows for the first chapter.**

**Yes, 7pm on a Friday seems an odd time but it's quite deliberate. I'm glad you all enjoyed the previous one, here's the second chapter and I hope you enjoy that one just as much. Serena still on the back foot in this one but begins to get her own back next time!**

**Onwards!**

**...**

Chapter Two.

Monday morning comes around far too quickly for Serena's liking and she reluctantly stretches out an arm to switch off the blaring alarm clock; knowing that getting up is the first step to having to deal with Henrik Hanssen again and although she is tempted to put if off for as long as she can, she throws back the duvet, the cold January morning air an unpleasant change from the warm cocoon she had created with the duvet.

Having showered and changed, Serena resists the urge to check her emails over breakfast before she gets into work, not wanting the likely explosion of messages in her inbox to intrude into the final few minutes of peace she has before the Monday morning war zone of ED and AAU referrals.

Another reason that Serena has ignored her laptop this morning is Hanssen. Since the man's return, not even one week ago, he has seemed determined to make up for the time he was away from Holby and send her hundreds of emails, his messages often landing in her inbox up to the early hours of the morning. He has had the whole weekend to send emails and quite frankly, Serena doesn't want to know what demands await her until she has to.

It's nearly lunchtime when she gets the first opportunity to sit down at her desk with a sandwich and a cup of tea and look at her emails. She had an elective this morning which had been near enough a textbook procedure and she is pleased at the better start to this week than the last. When the program loads, she groans quietly at the number of messages waiting for her and silently curses her decision this morning.

"Everything ok?" Ric asks and Serena resists the urge to sneer; to her, Ric has sounded like he's fighting off amusement every time he speaks to her since Hanssen returned last week.

"Fine."

She answers curtly before realising that Ric will undoubtedly feel compelled to offer advice if he feels his colleague would benefit, irrespective of whether said advice would be welcome or not. "It's just emails," she adds, "lots of emails."

One email from the Swede catches her eye, titled simply 'Friday', Serena opens it, expecting some kind of lofty comment from Hanssen about their meeting or attempting a sneaky amendment to their (eventual) agreement about her role.

**...**

"What do you mean, 'this week's meeting'?"

Serena eventually found the hard-to-find Director of Surgery on AAU and she had glared at him until he joined her in the small office. He had looked up almost as soon as Serena made her way onto the ward, possibly aware of the baleful look she was sending him.

"I would have thought it was rather obvious." Hanssen replies smoothly, closing the door behind him. Serena is still very much aware that the blinds are not drawn and that Michael, Sacha and the blonde F1 are not-so-subtly watching the confrontation.

"We had our _meeting_ last week, at stupid o'clock on Friday-" Serena places extra emphasis on the word, signalling her unhappiness with the event.

"Did I not mention that it is to be a regular meeting?"

"Obviously not." Aware that her tone is probably carrying out of the door, Serena lowers her voice. "Or we wouldn't be having this discussion."

"Ah, I see. My apologies, Ms. Campbell. It is to be a regular meeting, 7pm as before. I trust the time is not too inconvenient." Hanssen doesn't wait for an answer and sweeps out of the small office, leaving the door open behind him, past the nurses' station and over to the patient he'd previously been attending before him summons, standing on the far side of the bed.

She watches, momentarily confused as Hanssen looks almost surprised at something the patient says, involuntarily glancing up to her and shakes his head, before averting his gaze and resuming the consultation.

"Brave move." Serena hears Michael's drawl off to her left.

"Or suicidal." The F1, Dr. Wilde offers an opinion and she realises that they are talking about the scene they have just witnessed and she glares at the three doctors who suddenly make themselves look busy. She stalks past them and off the ward without saying a word.

**...**

The second meeting of the two most senior consultants in the hospital was as tense as the first meeting the previous week. By the end of the meeting, thankfully a few minutes earlier than the previous week, Serena was giving serious thought to inviting Terrance Cunningham, Chairman of the Hospital Board along to one of these meetings without telling Hanssen, just to ruffle the iceman's feathers.

It's quite a petty tactic, Serena knows that but Hanssen's smug comments and his whole attitude makes Serena want to stick that Bonsai tree of his somewhere that the Swede would find incredibly uncomfortable.

The man in front of her went AWOL for eight weeks; disappeared off the face of the planet, refusing to answer emails, calls or any form of communication, totally abandoning his responsibilities to the hospital, to his patients and to his staff.

'Not only that', Serena rants to herself silently, sending death glares to the dark-haired man sat opposite her. 'Not only that but he then had the gall to return and snatch his job back without as much as a by your leave'.

Serena had the hospital running like clockwork, smoothly and efficiently which is more than can be said for the final few weeks of Hanssen's tenure back in late October. The board, the patients and the staff were all happy and then Hanssen turns up out of the blue, sweeping across the building like the grim reaper himself and throwing all of Serena's hard work out of his fifth floor window.

It's no secret that Serena can appreciate a fine Shiraz when she drinks one but she is very aware of her limits with regards to alcohol and her sense of professionalism refuses to allow her to drink to excess – she is damn proud of her low morbidity rates and intends to keep them rivalling the best in the hospital. She rarely drinks on a week night, unless there is a special occasion, refusing to allow any impairment in case she is summoned to emergency surgery.

However, that said, Serena had started the 15th January 2013 as the CEO and Director of Surgery of Holby General Hospital with an splenic flexure resection elective that day. She had ended the day with only a brief endoscopic procedure on Ms. Laidlaw and no elective, her operation stolen by the man who demoted her to become a glorified paperwork gopher and 'sidekick'.

She had woken up on the morning on the 16th January with a full philharmonic orchestra playing something loud like Beethoven's 9th inside her head at full volume and her mouth felt parched, like she'd swallowed sand. Her body felt like she had been through a Jac Naylor gym session and several other alcohol-induced ailments to rival any hangover from her student doctor days.

It had taken more than a few minutes but eventually Serena hauled herself up, out of bed and staggered along the landing to the bathroom, standing dumbly under the hot spray of the shower for several minutes until she is fit enough to function and prepare for the upcoming day.

'This is definitely all Henrik Hanssen's fault', Serena silently blames the Swede as she waits for the lift in the Wyvern entrance to the hospital building, only just resisting the urge to massage her temples, telling herself that she can make it to her office with appearance intact before collapsing with a groan. Thankfully Serena doesn't see the tall, brooding shadow of the newly reinstated Director of Surgery on her travels and she steps out of the lift and onto the general surgery ward.

A patient had vomited almost as if they were waiting until Serena walks past their bed and the sound and smell nearly send her to the nearest toilets to be sick herself – only years of training and a will of iron had saved her from joining them. Ric had noticed, Serena imagines her rapidly paling face probably gave it away but wisely he didn't say anything. Instead, she glares and barks at the nearest nurse, an unfamiliar face, 'probably agency', Serena concludes and heads into her office to escape.

Dosed up on caffeine and working her way through a pack of extra-strong mints she found in her desk, Serena began to sort through the jumble of paper on her desk, wondering about just how technology was meant to replace all of this instead of multiplying it.

"Paperless office, my arse."

Her day continued in much the same fashion and the pattern repeated itself pretty much every day for the first two weeks, less the hangover. In short, she concluded, all that Cunningham has achieved is to turn her from a top quality consultant general surgeon into a glorified secretary and filing system and she isn't sure that it's a promotion at all.

"Are you ever going to thank me?" Serena's seemingly out of the blue enquiry stops Hanssen in his tracks and Serena watches him he looks up from the document which he'd been looking at, his expression is clearly confused; there is no connection between what he had been discussing and her question.

"For what should I be thanking you, Ms. Campbell?" Hanssen's tone is wary when he eventually answers and Serena can't quite work out whether Hanssen wants or needs her to spell it out for him.

"For running this whole circus while you went on holiday for eight weeks." The only clue that Serena gets that her barbed comment has hit its target is that Hanssen's mouth tightens a little and he inhales through his nose before opening his mouth to reply.

"My apologies, Ms. Campbell – I was not aware that you required such primitive recognition for merely doing your job-"

"I was doing _your_ job." Serena interrupts. "There's a big difference between wanting a pat on the back and having to step into the breach when you left us in the lurch."

"Such a valiant effort and noble sacrifice on your part, Ms. Campbell." Hanssen replies, tone sardonic and Serena wants to wipe that look off his face. It isn't just him, it's a look she gets every so often, almost as if ambition in a woman is a completely different matter than in a man.

"Will a verbal 'thank you' suffice or would a written letter be preferable? Perhaps a certificate that you could hang in your office in Keller?"

"If it's written in your blood." Serena mutters reflexively before her brain can catch up with her mouth and censor the comment. To her inward relief, Hanssen appears slightly amused by it, not the reaction she would have anticipated from the enigmatic man and his posture seems to relax marginally as he observes her quietly, his dark eyes magnified and Serena forces herself not to look away.

"I see." There is a brief pause and Hanssen looks thoughtful. "By any chance, has our esteemed chairman also neglected to parade your contribution to this hospital to your satisfaction?" Hanssen's comment stings – Cunningham hadn't even thought to mention the sheer volume of hours she put in, instead adopting an 'Ah well, never mind, best of British' attitude to the debacle.

"Oh no, he thanked me. I remember that quite clearly." She lies through her teeth as Hanssen frowns, his gaze locked onto her, making her feel like a bug under a microscope but she manages to maintain eye contact.

Serena thinks it quite likely that if he believes her, that Hanssen has grasped the wrong end of the stick but isn't going to correct him about her statement unless he asks. However, he doesn't seek any clarification and after nearly a minute of silent observation, he returns to management re-shuffling – the topic of conversation prior to Serena's interruption.

"That wasn't thanks." Serena points out, referring to her earlier outburst as the meeting winds to an end.

"No, it wasn't." Hanssen agrees, appearing to instantly work out what Serena is talking about. "You are not an F1 requiring constant emotional support and recognition. If you are truly that emotionally fragile, I will have to inform Mr. Cunningham that my choice was in error and that the hospital requires a mentally stronger deputy."

The deceptively casual comment causes an immediate reaction and she clenches her fists knowing they are out of sight and after taking a deep, calming breath, Serena plasters a smile onto her face, asking in a forced, light tone. "Well, how about an explanation then?"

"An explanation?"

'This', Serena thinks, 'is proof that there is some kind of divine being with a sadistic sense of humour. There is no way that anyone as annoying as Henrik Hanssen could have appeared on the planet through random chance and natural selection'.

"An explanation for your disappearance." She explains, again. "An inability to handle the daily pressures of CEO? Did it all get too much?" Serena adds, deliberately making her questions as patronising as she can get away with.

"No." He states in a bored tone of voice, as if he is tired of repeating himself about the subject. "If the board require one, they may have an explanation. They have not seen fit to request any clarification on my absence and I have no inclination to discuss my personal life unnecessarily so your curiosity will have to remain unsatisfied, I'm afraid."

Serena's immediate response is to want to argue with Hanssen, that it isn't to satisfy some inner nurse-like penchant for gossip. She bites the inside of her lip, trying to work out how to tell Hanssen that she wants to know whether it's likely to happen again.

"Now," Hanssen continues, smoothly changing the subject, "I think we have done all we need to do here; one imagines you wish to head off and see your daughter at some point this weekend."

"She's staying with her father this weekend." Serena doesn't know why she answered Hanssen's question, possibly because she is thrown a little at how Hanssen is aware of Eleanor's existence and she offers a quick, silent prayer that it isn't because of the girl's stupidity last summer.

"Ah, I see." Serena isn't sure whether the Swede is about to say something else but he remains silent and the silence grows.

"If there's nothing else?" Serena changes the subject; she has little if any desire to talk about her personal life with anyone she works with at the hospital and of anyone at the hospital, Henrik Hanssen is certainly in last place.

"Nothing that can't wait." Hanssen comments quietly, shuffling a couple of piles of paper around his desk. "Goodnight, Ms. Campbell." His closing comment is much less sarcastic than Serena's parting shot the week before and she finds herself responding automatically, almost annoying herself for being so civil and she leaves as quickly as she can, unaware of the gaze which follows her progress across the office and out of the door.

Two weeks down and an unknown number stretch away ahead of her and Serena leans back heavily against the driver's seat as she gets into the her car, tired out from the week. At this moment in time, she isn't sure how she is going to survive an indefinite future working relationship with the man, the first fortnight has drained her. Taking a deep breath to attempt to galvanise herself into action, Serena opens her eyes and starts the car engine before backing out of her newly-assigned parking spot, 'the only perk to this new job', she thinks.

Making her way off the hospital site, Serena switches on the radio, glad for the low-level background noise to fill the silence, she glances at the clock on the dashboard and as she negotiates a roundabout, calculates how many hours until Monday morning, when her Henrik-Hanssen-free time will end.

She sighs upon reaching her answer, the weekend isn't long enough before it all starts again.

**...**

**AN2: Still not a happy Campbell. Still, a little friction never hurt anyone and I'm enjoying having Hanssen wind Serena up.**

**Next time: Serena is late.**

**Feel free to drop me a line, let me know what you liked, what you didn't like. Thanks. **


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: A big thank you to all of the reviews and lovely comments you left on the second chapter; I'm glad you enjoyed it :-)**

**I forgot to mention last time, a fair few of you got the comment from Catherine Russell about the raspberry scrubs. Woo hoo, go you all :-D**

**Onwards **

**...**

Chapter Three.

"Mr. Carney, all I want to do is just-"

"No! You want to stick a needle in my arm and steal my blood so you can-"

"Mr. Carney." Serena's firm voice stops the young man in his tracks. She has been observing Digby's painful attempts to collect a blood sample from the man for far longer than she should have.

"There is no conspiracy, there are no elaborate government experiments and no aliens." She adds the last part on a whim; he hasn't mentioned them but Serena figures that it's only a matter of time before he does. One thing she _is_ certain of, is that she can feel a headache rapidly approaching.

"All Dr. Digby is _trying_ to do," she sends a sharp look at the apparently hapless F1 who shrinks slightly, "is take a small but necessary sample of blood for a couple of tests so that we can treat you and you can go on your way." Serena is heading just the far side of frustrated with Keller's new F1.

Arthur Digby isn't her student, he's Ric's student officially (and probably wisely too, if today is any indication) – she has too much on her plate as it is without mentoring (or in this case, babysitting) junior doctors as well.

"Just a little bit of blood and we won't need to see you again." The dark-haired F1 opens his mouth, Serena assumes in some kind of attempt to be supportive for her statement but he just puts his foot in it instead.

"Because you'll be able to track me!" Any progress they may have made, negligible as it would have been, has been wiped away and the man in the bed in front of her, wide-eyed and looking like a character straight out of the X-Files with his unkempt beard and dreadlocks bursts into paranoid chatter, earning looks from all over the ward.

Serena's patience is running out fast and she isn't far off berating Arthur Digby, Jac Naylor style on the middle of the ward for being so bloody stupid. The F1's hearing is saved by Chantelle interrupting and calling her over from the nurses' station and she sighs, wondering 'what now?'

"If I hear another word out of you," Serena turns back to the patient who silences himself under the glare of the look Serena is sending him. "I _will_ sedate you." She walks off a few steps, glad to hear silence behind her. "And you, don't touch anything." She addresses Digby who nods nervously.

She wouldn't actually have sedated the man but the important thing is that her patient doesn't know that. He isn't a danger to himself or others, 'merely their sanity', she thinks and unfortunately being a nuisance isn't enough to sedate someone or Serena's life would be vastly improved, she can think of several people off the top of her head who she would put into medically-induced sleep.

Permanently.

'Definitely a pity', she muses as she reaches the front of the ward and Chantelle Lane, who has the ward phone held against her chest and an apologetic look on her face.

"It's Mr. Hanssen," She explains cautiously, apparently well aware of the fact that the hospital's two most senior consultants do not see eye to eye. "He rang about twenty minutes ago but I said you were with a patient." Chantelle indicates the bed she has just come from with her head.

"What does he want?" She asks tiredly, she doesn't want to deal with the Swede right now.

"And now he's rung back, said you're late for a meeting and how long are you going to be?" She closes her eyes briefly. She should have guessed – it's Friday which means their stupid o'clock meeting is today and Serena turns to look at the clock on the wall, she is indeed late by nearly half an hour.

"Fine. Give me the phone," Serena closes the distance between her and the counter and takes the phone from the young nurse and promptly hangs up, deriving more joy than she probably should from the action.

"Don't worry, he won't blame you for a moment." She reassures the slightly shocked nurse, knowing that even if the nurse had been the one to disconnect the call, she would get away with it – Hanssen, along with almost every other person in the hospital has a soft spot for Chantelle.

She groans as she looks at the clock again, she will have to head straight up to the fifth floor if she wants to get home this side of 9.30pm and there won't be any time to grab some kind of fortifying extra-caffeinated drink before dealing with his Holiness on the fifth floor and with a headache still threatening, a round or two with Hanssen is the last thing she needs right now.

"Mr. Malick," Serena drawls, glad to see a face that she can trust emerge from a side room, "look after boy wonder over there. Don't let him near any sharp objects," she indicates the F1 and sighs, brow furrowed slightly, "or blunt objects either, come to think of it. I'll be with you know who – the ward is yours."

"No problem, Ms. Campbell." The registrar reassures her. "Do you want me to wish you luck?" He adds flippantly and Serena smiles.

"Not me but I think Mr. Hanssen will need all the luck he can get." The registrar grins.

"Well then, I'll see what I can do. Go and have your fun with the boss man, Channers and I got this, haven't we, Channers?" The nurse agrees enthusiastically. Shaking her head and rolling her eyes, Serena heads off the ward and through the double doors towards the lifts and the fifth floor, wishing for the umpteenth time that she could just go home at a relatively reasonable hour.

**…**

Appreciating that she is quite late for the meeting, Serena decides to politely knock twice on the lightly-coloured wooden door to the office, waiting until she hears Hanssen's familiar voice before entering. Aware of being observed as she crosses the floor of the office and takes her usual chair on the visitor's side of the desk.

"Sorry, I'm late." She apologises, trying to ignore Hanssen's gaze on her, his chin raised as he looks down at his watch pointedly. "I was with a difficult and somewhat _imaginative _patient."

Looking at the man's desk, her eyes lock onto the steaming cup of something on his desk, resting on a coaster positioned just so. Serena rather hopes that it's coffee although concedes that considering the man's penchant for Sushi and Bonsai Trees, there's a strong chance that it will be Green Tea or something equally nasty and healthy, probably decaffeinated and about as much use as out of date mouthwash.

After a few moments deliberation, Serena decides to take the risk – her need is greater than Hanssen's and Serena's desire for caffeine outweighs the risk of it being something other than coffee. "You don't mind...?" She inclines her head at the desk, indicating the drink.

"Not at all, Ms. Campbell, these things... happen." Hanssen trails off, frowning as Serena reaches over and plucks the drink off his desk and takes a sip.

Coffee.

Black, no sugar.

Serena thinks that she may have finally found Hanssen's solitary redeeming feature and she exhales happily, initially oblivious to the man's expression. She takes another sip and slowly realises that Hanssen had obviously misunderstood her question.

'Oh', she thinks, 'ah well'. There is no way that she's giving the drink back now and subconsciously tightens her grip on the cup. Hanssen will survive without it but he may not survive if Serena doesn't keep it. Mr. Malick's luck seems to be working.

"A particularly tough day, Ms. Campbell?" Hanssen enquires in a surprisingly even tone, there is no way that she would have been so calm if the situation was reversed; she'd probably be looking for a place to hide the body right about now.

"A long day," she corrects, suspecting that it's about to get that little bit longer. She exhales quietly, willing the caffeine to take effect, unaware of Hanssen's eyes following the fate of his lost drink.

"Indeed." Hanssen offers a response in a dry tone and Serena wonders if Hanssen would find Digby as annoying as she does.

"Do you remember the last student you mentored?" Serena asks, recalling her interaction with Digby this afternoon and completely missing the look on Hanssen's face. "Didn't you ever want to just shake some sense into them?" She continues, looking up at the dark-haired man in front of her. Hanssen's expression is almost completely neutral, his gaze moving around his desk for a few moments until he inclines his head, almost shrugging.

"They had their moments," he offers, Serena watches him frown slightly and she wonders what memory or memories he is recalling. "As it is, they are now a Consultant working valiantly to change the fortunes of their department, or so I am led to believe."

"You've not kept in touch?" The question is out before Serena can check herself, the surprise evident in her tone; she finds it hard to believe that a man with as many professional connections as Hanssen would neglect to maintain one with a protégé of his. It doesn't make sense and there is obviously more to the story.

"Obviously not." Hanssen barely blinks, his expression is almost stony and Serena realises that she has probably hit a raw nerve.

"Well, their success must be down to your instruction," She almost winces at her sentence, not entirely sure why she has said something to the man which could be construed as, well, nice. She looks at the cup of coffee in her hands suspiciously.

"Perhaps," Hanssen concedes after a few moments and Serena watches his expression relax slightly. "but perhaps not. However, there are several more relevant matters to attend to before we leave tonight, shall we?"

She nods, allowing the transparent subject change and keeping hold of her ill-gotten coffee, they debate the merits of a possible new procedure for Darwin and potential sources of funding for it. When the meeting draws to a close, she quickly makes her way out of the room and along the corridor, desperate to get home as soon as she can.

"Do you need an alibi?" Malick appears behind her as Serena crosses the ward towards her office, tapping out the pass code to the room.

"No, he survived." Serena responds, amused. "I might have stolen his coffee which may just have saved his life." She confesses, signing something for the registrar before heading into the darkened office. Serena wastes little time in collecting her belongings together and heading off the ward, passing one of the other consultants as she leaves.

Pulling out of her parking spot, Serena turns on the car radio just in time to hear the 9 o'clock news and she sighs, fed up already, after three weeks of the late finishes to her working week. She decides that she'll have to think of an excuse at some point to get out of them and spends the rest of the journey home, wondering what possible explanation she could give that the workaholic Swede would accept.

**...**

**AN: It's the one month review next time and I think Hanssen may have neglected to mention to Serena that she is on probation for this new role. Hmmm.**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed this and would love to get your thoughts on this.**


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Hey everyone, sorry about the delay in posting this, there were a couple of bits which just wouldn't play nicely and smooth themselves out in a timely fashion. I have the outline for the next chapter ready and things start to move on so that should be good and not too long an update (famous last words). **

**Thank you all for your reviews, messages, patience and enjoyment of this. It's always great to read what you liked or what you didn't enjoy so much for future reference. I'm glad you all seemed to enjoy Serena stealing Hanssen's coffee in the previous chapter, it was a last-minute inclusion and I'm glad it was so well received. :-)**

**Kaysia – you read my mind about the coffee so this chapter is for you. :-)**

**Lots of you wondering why Hanssen has picked 7pm on a Friday night, there is a slight clue at some point in this chapter but all will be explained later on.**

**Anyway, enough of my waffle, usual disclaimers apply.**

**Onwards!**

**...**

Chapter Four.

It was rapidly approaching the end of the fourth week since Henrik Hanssen had returned suddenly from his sabbatical, resulting in Serena being so rudely demoted from the Director of Surgery position she'd adopted after Imelda Cousins' abrupt departure and then almost simultaneously promoted to the role of 'Executive Director of Surgery'.

It had been a long month, Serena reflects as she sits back in her office chair; the previous four weeks had felt more tiring and demanding than she'd previously estimated, although she is quick to assign the blame to the Swede and the volume of work he has assigned to her.

As much as she curses the Swede's working practices, and she does often curse them, between the two of them, they've managed to get the hospital into a reasonable shape by the scruff of its neck. It isn't out of the woods by any stretch but survival is much more likely now than three years ago or even one year ago which is testament to the sheer amount of hard work they have put into the place.

Glancing to the bottom right hand corner of her laptop screen, Serena watches the clock and stares at the numbers, watching them tick over until it reads 18:50. It's a Friday and in a few minutes, Serena will have to deal with Henrik Hanssen once more; irrespective of how efficient a management team they might be, it doesn't mean that Hanssen doesn't get on her nerves, wind her up and frustrate her.

He does. Nearly all of the time.

Serena drains the last of her drink before standing up, discarding the empty paper cup in the same movement – after last week's meeting, she has been careful to make sure that this week she is suitably caffeinated before going into battle with Henrik Hanssen.

**...**

Serena arrives a few minutes before seven, hoping that by doing so, she will be able to provoke Hanssen into starting and finishing early and she can perhaps get home in time to have a sit down before she goes to bed.

As she exits the lift and takes the first few steps along the familiar fifth floor corridor, Serena muses to herself that she is in danger of becoming truly middle-aged; her Friday nights aren't anything like they used to be – instead of going out to celebrate the end of the working week (assuming she wasn't on call over the weekend), all she wants to do now is have a quiet night in.

Shaking her head to herself, her twenty one year old self would be appalled at the way she is currently feeling, she reaches the doorway to the office which has caused nothing but problems this year and it's only the middle of February. Serena offers her customary sharp three knock greeting on Hanssen's door, resolutely ignoring the silver name plaque which no longer bears her name – her plaque is buried somewhere in her desk drawer; out of sight, out of mind. Serena hears an answer from inside the office, she thinks that it was Hanssen bidding her to enter but she isn't certain, the call wasn't clear but she steps into the room anyway.

Her gaze finds Hanssen almost immediately, he is sat behind his desk, half hidden by the paper-covered surface. He is on the phone and Serena pauses but Hanssen waves her in anyway and she closes the door quietly behind her. Not entirely certain of what to do, Serena decides to take her customary seat on the other side of the desk and pretend not to eavesdrop on the Swede's conversation.

Unfortunately, she doesn't glean much of the conversation, Hanssen remains mostly silent, listening to whoever is on the other end of the line and Serena wonders who he is talking to. "I see." Hanssen's ambiguous response doesn't help matters and Serena allows her gaze to wander, focusing her attention on the piles of paper on Hanssen's desk for any clues to the upcoming delights of today's meeting. Serena's quest is distracted by the hitherto unseen presence of two steaming cups on the right hand side of Hanssen's desk which stops her in her tracks.

"No matter," Hanssen continues and Serena moves her gaze on, not wanting to be caught staring, especially after last week's incident. "I shall inform you of my recommendation in due course." After a couple more Hanssen-esque exchanges, he hangs up and turns to face Serena after replacing the phone handset precisely back in its cradle.

"Good evening, Ms. Campbell." Hanssen greets her in a mild enough tone.

Serena thinks that he had obviously noticed her brief appraisal of the drinks, no matter how circumspect she had tried to be and with a hint of amusement in his expression, Serena watches the Swede pick up both cups and deposit one in front of her, keeping one for himself.

"Evening..." Serena trails off as Hanssen pushes a cup of what smells like coffee towards her and the suspicion in her tone is all too clear to hear. "I don't wish to sound ungrateful, but..." she gestures at the drink, requesting an explanation for the unexpected offering.

"Ah," Hanssen sits back in his chair, his own drink untouched and still steaming and elbows resting on the arms of his chair, Hanssen steeples his fingers in a couple of moments of contemplation.

"It's no sinister plot," Serena rolls her eyes, hoping that Hanssen's answer wasn't provoked by any expression of hers. He speaks in an almost bored-sounding tone but Serena has known the man long enough to be certain that it isn't the case. "It's the result of an observation from last week, whereby after you had appropriated my drink-"

"About that," Serena interrupts but Hanssen raises a hand to stall her explanation.

"There is no need to apologise, Ms. Campbell." Serena wasn't about to apologise for taking Hanssen's coffee but concedes that it's probably not a bad idea to have the man think she was going to do so and she remains silent, warily allowing Hanssen to elaborate. "You were notably less obstreperous and as such, considering the likely duration of tonight's meeting, I sought to facilitate such a state again." It takes Serena a moment or two to decipher quite what Hanssen was saying; although they are conversing in English, it isn't always clear what the enigmatic Director of Surgery is saying.

"Is that your way of saying that you think I'm less _difficult_ to work with when I have a coffee within reach?" Serena asks in a tone which would make most of her acquaintances wary, most but apparently not all because Hanssen answers almost straight away.

"Quite so."

"Oh." Serena pauses, slightly surprised by Hanssen's unexpected forthrightness, something which she is certain that no-one else she knows would dare try in that situation. As her gaze returns to her cup, she mentally shrugs, after all, coffee is coffee and it would be rude to say no, even if she has already had one in the last fifteen minutes. "Well, thank you." She leans forward and picks up the still warm cup, allowing the heat of the drink to warm her hands.

"It is no problem," Hanssen seems eager to dismiss Serena's thanks as she takes a sip, relishing the taste of the drink. "I should like to retain possession of a drink this evening. If that is only achieved by buying two drinks, well, the cost of an extra coffee is a small price to pay." Hanssen quips and Serena is momentarily surprised by the appearance of his sense of humour and has to suppress her immediate response to attack and deflect.

"So what horror awaits today which has necessitated the use of a caffeine bribe?" She asks lightly, attempting to keep the tone light but feeling quite awkward at attempting such a conversation with Hanssen.

"How are you finding the role of Executive Director of Surgery, Ms. Campbell?" Hanssen's sudden topic change catches Serena by surprise.

"Fine." She answers in a tone bland enough to rival any of Hanssen's when he doesn't want to give anything away. Serena takes a tactical sip of her drink, a little confused by the frown which has appeared on Hanssen's face.

"Do you have anything further to add?" Hanssen asks and Serena is more wary than anything else by the question.

"Why would I?" Serena answers Hanssen's question with another question, an effective tactic she often uses to change the momentum in a conversation.

"You are aware of the significance of your answers, Ms. Campbell?" Hanssen responds in kind, with another question and Serena thinks they could be here all night if they carry on like this.

"I'm under the distinct impression that we aren't on the same wavelength," she drawls, fiddling with the lid of her cup. "Why are my answers suddenly so important to you?"

"Perhaps Mr. Cunningham's unavailability tonight is fortuitous," The Swede observes her thoughtfully for a moment and Serena realises Terrance Cunningham was who Hanssen was talking to on the phone when she entered the office. "Today's meeting is to ensure a satisfactory transition into your new role and your answers are therefore vital to your continued employment as the Executive Director of Surgery."

"What!?" It takes a moment while Serena tries to assimilate what Hanssen has just said and when it does sink in, it's all Serena can do not to explode.

"You have put me on probation?" Serena enunciates each word in a tone of voice which can reduce Keller to silence, giving Hanssen one final opportunity to backtrack.

"You've already been on probation for four weeks, Ms. Campbell. I'm not sure what you expected; it's quite standard practice. Especially for a role of such importance to the hospital." Hanssen pushes his glasses back up his nose and his calm answer serves only to annoy Serena more. She is sorely tempted to toss the coffee over Hanssen and his ever-pristine, expensive suit and her fingers tighten around the drink in anticipation. If Hanssen sees, he doesn't comment upon it.

"Why didn't you tell me about this beforehand?" Hanssen raises an eyebrow as he takes a sip of his drink and Serena elaborates. "I might have been able to prepare something instead of having this sprung on me, completely unprepared and-"

"I had rather assumed that your communications with Mr. Cunningham would have alerted you to tonight's meeting." Serena frowns, confused and less than a second later realises that Hanssen now has a relatively accurate idea of how regularly she actually talks to the chairman and she curses herself silently; an avenue of leverage over the Swede has effectively been removed.

"As it is," Hanssen frowns, removes his glasses and polishes a lens before replacing them. "I did not require you to prepare anything, Ms. Campbell. Unlike certain members of the Board, I do not need a colourful Powerpoint presentation for you to hold my attention." Serena isn't sure what to say in response, she isn't certain quite what Hanssen means and doesn't want to be seen asking for an explanation.

"How long will this take?" Hanssen shrugs.

"That rather depends on you, Ms. Campbell. Do you have another engagement this evening?"

"Perhaps." She answers cagily, well aware that the only engagement she has this evening is with a glass or two of Shiraz. "Is there anything else you haven't told me?"

"I do believe any other relevant matters are written in the small print of your contract. I can print out another copy for you if you would like it?"

"No." Serena answers testily.

"Well then, shall we begin?"

Painfully making their way through Serena's four week tenure as the Executive Director of Surgery, Serena watches Hanssen's fountain pen flow across the page as they discuss how she has settled into the role, her will to live leaving her by the sentence.

"And what would you say your greatest challenge has been in the role to date?" Hanssen asks, not looking up and Serena bites her tongue to stop herself from confessing that managing to last a month dealing with Hanssen and not throttling him has been her biggest challenge. Serena scours her mind for an alternative answer, "Ms. Campbell?" Hanssen glances up when no answer is forthcoming and he tilts his head slightly, observing her curiously.

"The reduction in theatre time and elective surgeries," Serena answers. "You and I are both damn good surgeons yet at the moment we are being paid to be little more than glorified secretaries to the detriment of the patients of this hospital." Serena watches Hanssen nod to signal his understanding and Serena forces herself to sit still and meet the man's intense gaze. After several heartbeats, Hanssen ducks his head and returns to writing on the paper in front of him and Serena silently exhales in relief.

"One final matter, Ms. Campbell." Hanssen pulls another pile of paper towards him, scanning the top page briefly before looking back up at her. He begins to explain about the board's latest demands; their requests for written clarification and confirmation of the current expenditure and possible targets for efficiency increases per ward.

"If you focus on the staffing and management questions the board have raised..." Hanssen pushes one piece of paper over his desk towards her, pausing as he catches sight of Serena's expression and Serena imagines that the mixture of confusion and annoyance she is sporting isn't a good look for her but it does appear to be an effective one. "Unless you would prefer to deal with the accounts side of things?"

"What I want to know, is what is going on?" Serena fixes Hanssen with a glare which makes junior doctors and fellow consultants alike, stutter and become unsure of themselves. "What about this so-called 'review'?" She is careful not to snap at the man who probably has the power to demote her and Serena doesn't want to give Hanssen any excuse to do so.

"I have no particular concerns about your suitability for the role of Executive Director of Surgery," Hanssen answers distractedly without looking at her, apparently finding the document in front of him more interesting than her. If it wasn't for her current probation situation, Serena would be tempted to read him the riot act and ask the man if his mother ever taught him any manners.

"So what was..." Serena checks her watch, "the first forty minutes of tonight's meeting in aid of, then?" If Hanssen is telling the truth, then Serena doesn't quite know whether annoyance or confusion is the appropriate response.

"A necessary evil," Hanssen responds, apparently oblivious to Serena's shortening temper. "HR and the Board do like to make us jump through certain hoops."

"So this is a box-ticking exercise?" Serena almost growls, thinking to herself that perhaps HR could do with some cuts to their department.

"If you wish to call it that, although I'm sure our colleagues in HR would disagree with the term employed." Hanssen finally makes eye contact with her again, looking up from his papers. "May we continue?"

Serena sighs to herself and nods, Hanssen continues to talk about the report and its particular demands. A few minutes in, Serena surreptitiously manages to look at her watch, seeing her relaxed evening of sitting on her sofa with a glass of wine, the TV on re-runs of something or other disappearing before her eyes as Hanssen talks. Part of Serena wonders if the man truly has nothing better to do on his Friday nights than to discuss the management structure of AAU with a woman he doesn't particularly like.

After nearly ten minutes, Serena has long given up paying attention to whatever Hanssen is talking about, she'll work out what this management report is all about later on. Instead, Serena's attention is caught between working out what she wants for dinner and whether Hanssen will finish the meeting before the two coffees she has consumed catch up with her and she has to excuse herself.

**...**

**AN: This chapter was based on an experience I had once with a manager springing a performance review/probation meeting on me without telling me. Much to her disappointment, I passed with flying colours although there are several key differences – I wasn't bought a coffee for starters. Hmpf. **

**Anyway, would love to hear what you thought of this chapter.**

**Next time – an RTC has unexpected consequences. **


	5. Chapter 5

**AN: Thanks for all the reviews and messages from the previous chapter. I'm very pleased to hear you all enjoyed it :-)**

**Things start to move on in this chapter; I've got a bit of the next one written so hopefully it won't be too long between updates.**

**Katielex managed to guess where this chapter was headed so this one is for you :)**

**Usual disclaimers – I don't own anything to do with Holby City, nor am I ever likely to. It's all rather sad, really. **

**Onwards!**

**...**

Chapter Five

"Theatre two." Serena barks impatiently. "This side of Christmas, please. I'll be there in a few minutes." She steps back as a bed is wheeled past her on the way to the operating theatres.

"Ms. Campbell?" Harry Tressler gets her attention and Serena turns, listening as the CT2 lists his patient's injuries; they aren't severe and Serena needs to free up more space on the ward for the more critical cases which are incoming.

"Take her up to Keller and get Ric or Malick to deal with it." Serena directs and a porter steps forward to transfer the patient. Exhaling to herself, Serena glances at her watch and her heart sinks, it's not even 9am on Friday – today already looks like it will be a long one. She uses three fingers of her left hand to massage her temple as she scans the information in the folder in her right hand.

It had been a pleasantly straightforward week at work until this morning and when news of a major accident came through, Serena knew the week wasn't going to end smoothly. An RTC on the Holby ring road during rush hour had escalated, rapidly increasing from two or three vehicles to several more. The accident has closed a large section of the dual carriageway, including the stretch which Serena uses to commute and as it is likely to be closed for several hours more, Serena resolves to find a different route home tonight.

'Yes, you and the rest of Holby', her conscience adds unhelpfully.

It's not the end of the week that anyone needs. The call had come through less than 30 minutes ago and already the ward is a madhouse and Serena is needed in theatre. The other senior AAU consultant, Michael Spence is caught up in the tailbacks on the ring road and therefore unavailable until he can find another way into the hospital.

"Good morning, Ms. Campbell."

Serena hasn't quite forgiven Hanssen for springing a probation review on her last week but right now she is glad to hear the Swede's unruffled voice. Hanssen's calm greeting is reassuring and Serena tries to respond in kind and not reveal her building frustration – they'd discovered this morning that Ric Griffin's emergency medicine has lapsed so Hanssen has been drafted in as an extra pair of hands to cope with the ED's overspill to AAU.

"Morning." Serena pushes the file in her hand into Hanssen's chest and the man grasps it, long fingers curling around the blue folder as she rattles through a handover. "I'm due in theatre. Any questions?" Hanssen merely shakes his head and calmly stretches an arm in the general direction of the operating theatres and Serena heads off to scrub in and try and save her first patient, unaware of the way she is being watched as she departs.

**...**

"You're okay to finish up here?"

Serena gratefully leaves her registrar to close up the final patient and in a bit of a daze, she makes her way away from the operating table, discarding the face mask, smock and gloves as she goes. She exhales tiredly as she washes her hands and forearms on autopilot, the action second nature to her as she stands in front of the sink, almost visibly flagging as the day catches up with her.

Serena's back aches, her legs ache, her feet ache and her stomach stopped growling several hours ago, having obviously given up on being fed any time soon as she moved from patient to patient. She has spent several hours in theatre today, ironically the very thing she wished for last week at her surprise probation meeting.

'But not all at once', her tired mind protests.

The volume of hours spent in surgery today was not _quite_ what she had in mind when she sat in front of Hanssen, bemoaning the loss of her operations only last week. She turns the tap off with her elbow, drying her hands and arms before making her feet tread the familiar path back onto AAU.

Serena's plans for the evening involve staggering up to Keller, picking up her belongings, driving straight home and having dinner and an early night. She recalls that there is some lasagne in the fridge, left over from last night's dinner and hopes that Eleanor hasn't taken a fancy to it and eaten it. As Serena's stomach starts to rumble quietly at the thought of food, she muses that re-heating the lasagne probably won't be necessary, heated or otherwise, it's unlikely to touch the sides on the way down.

Having changed out of AAU's light blue scrubs, Serena strides across the ward, back in her own clothes, her movements not revealing the hunger and tiredness she is feeling, determined to keep a professional appearance to the last. She stops outside the consultant's office briefly to tell Michael that she is off home. The American is in the middle of a conversation on the phone but nods and waves at her.

"Commendable work today, Ms. Campbell."

Hanssen's familiar voice appears suddenly at her right hand side, the second time today he has appeared out of thin air. She is too tired to reply and settles for a cross between a hum and a grunt in reply; saving lives is what she does – it's another day at the office.

"The hospital's response to this morning's incident has been excellent, in terms of both departments and individuals..."

Serena is only half listening to the tall Swede who is gliding along the ward next to her, still impeccably suited, without as much as a hair out of place while Serena feels harried, stressed, fit to drop from tiredness and half-starved.

They fall into step and make their way off the ward, pushing through the double doors and turning left towards the lifts. For once the lift is waiting and the hospital's two most senior consultants step in, pressing the buttons for the fourth and fifth floors respectively.

As the carriage jerks into movement, Serena runs her fingers through her hair and glances over at her now silent companion to find him watching her. "We earned our money today," Serena comments to break the silence, wondering if a take away would be a better bet, she isn't in the mood to cook tonight, even if it would just be reheating last night's dinner. "I think we're all fit to drop."

"Quite." Hanssen responds, expression inscrutable and as the lift stops and as Serena exits, he calls her back. "Ten minutes, Ms. Campbell." Serena frowns, not sure what Hanssen means by that but the lift doors close before she can request an explanation.

Shrugging, Serena turns away from the now-closed silver doors and heads through the double doors on her right onto the familiar Keller ward and almost immediately Malick moves across to intercept her. If it is anything other than absolute necessity, Serena is ready to tell the registrar that she isn't interested. However, before she can issue any warnings, Malick presses something into her hands and Serena nearly laughs when she realises what it is.

"Mr. Malick," Serena drawls, "I could kiss you." Malick looks a little uncomfortable at Serena's statement but she barely notices as she takes a sip of the coffee he's given her.

"It's fine, don't mention it." Malick takes half a step back just in case Serena makes good on her threat and does try to kiss him. "And it wasn't my idea, Mr... A bird told me you'd been slicing and dicing all day and he thought you'd appreciate it."

"Did he now?" Serena nods distractedly, taking another mouthful and makes a mental note to thank Ric for the coffee, she assumes that he is the responsible party. Her colleague certainly owes her after the fiasco with his emergency medicine this morning, leaving Serena to perform surgery after surgery, not even stopping for lunch or anything more than a glass or two of water.

Clutching her coffee to her chest with one hand, Serena taps out the code for the lock to the office and opens the door, pushing on it with her hip when it sticks a little. Serena stops two or three steps into the room when she sees her desk; it's as neat and organised as ever but lying on top of the wooden surface is a single folder and Serena's spirit sinks when she sees it.

It's the mixed management report for Hanssen, due today.

Today is Friday and Hanssen's cryptic comment in the lift suddenly makes sense and as her stomach growls again, she doesn't know whether to shout or cry at the injustice of it all.

**...**

Serena doesn't bother to knock on the heavy wooden door, instead, she just opens the door and enters Hanssen's office, uninvited. If he is bothered by her unannounced entrance, he doesn't draw attention to it. Serena crosses the carpeted office with her bag slung over one shoulder, held in place with one hand and the mixed management report grasped in the other.

"Is it really that cold, Ms. Campbell?" Hanssen comments, raising an eyebrow, indicating the coat and scarf she is wearing.

"Hardly," Serena drawls, stretching out the word, trying to cover the sound of her stomach rumbling.

"In that case, your attire would appear to be _somewhat_ excessive."

"I don't believe so, considering that I'm not staying tonight." Hanssen is clearly unimpressed but Serena is beyond caring.

"These meetings are not optional, Ms. Campbell, they-"

"Listen" Serena snaps, her patience reaching its end. "I haven't eaten for over 12 hours; I'm tired and hungry and really not in the mood to listen to you go through the same report that I spent the past week writing with a fine-tooth comb."

Hanssen's expression suggests that Serena may have overstepped the mark and she sighs, remembering her probation period and Hanssen's power over her for the next few weeks. "We can do this on Monday morning but there is no way on God's green Earth that I am waiting another hour for food." It isn't an apology but it's as close as Hanssen is going to get from her, a fact he seems to realise.

"The report is due on Monday morning." Hanssen comments, "therefore it is imperative that before its submission, we are both on the same wavelength and consequently can present a united front to the Board."

'Hardly imperative', Serena thinks to herself, 'all the man has to do is read the report and agree with what's been written'.

"No." Serena watches Hanssen as his lips purse in response to her trenchant denial.

"I would be willing to delay this meeting to allow you to pick up some sustenance from the café in the foyer-" Hanssen's suggestion is quickly interrupted.

"I'm not going near whatever limp and soggy excuse for a sandwich is left at this time of day." Her face scrunches in disgust at the thought of Pulse's likely meagre offerings. "If you don't want me to eat, fine. We'll do this on Monday. If you want this meeting to go ahead tonight, then I _will_ be eating. You can watch me or join me, besides I can't imagine you've eaten much today." Serena frowns a little as she looks down at the seated Swede who looks like he could do with a square meal or two; his suit seems to be hanging off him even more than usual. "You know what, I don't care if it's a McDonald's – I just need to eat something before I keel over."

"As you wish, Ms. Campbell" it takes a few moments but she can tell the moment Hanssen concedes, "but I draw the line at McDonald's." Serena nods her agreement, the thought of the fast food doesn't particularly appeal but she is hungry enough at the moment to override her reluctance, something she would have almost certainly regretted it later.

"Have you ever ventured into one?" She asks idly, unable to picture the stiff man able to cope with the inevitable noise, smell and mess she associates with the fast food chain.

"Into McDonald's?" Hanssen questions to clarify and Serena nods. "Most certainly not and I have no desire to start." The man's answer draws a tired smile from her.

"I guess it's not really you." Serena offers and Hanssen merely raises an eyebrow. "So, any suggestions? After all, you've been here in Holby longer than I have." Hanssen looks nonplussed by Serena's question and she elaborates.

"Where do you go out?"

"Go out?"

"For dinner." She explains in an excessively patronising tone for the Swede who apparently insists on being obtuse. "Any places that you would recommend?"

"I don't know any, I'm afraid."

"You must go out for dinner, surely?" Hanssen shakes his head. "But what about with family or friends?" Hanssen shakes his head again and his action unsettles Serena slightly.

"Doesn't it bother you?"

"Obviously not." He answers with what could pass as a shrug. "And there is no need to concern yourself with my private life, Ms. Campbell."

"I wasn't." Serena immediately retorts.

"Of course not." Serena recognises the Swede's use of sarcasm as a deflection and for once she is happy to let it go.

"Right," Serena says, feigning nonchalance as if Hanssen's admission just now hasn't bothered her. "Well, I can think of somewhere. It's probably not within walking distance in this temperature." Hanssen nods.

"Very well, I shall drive." Serena is too tired and hungry to fight him; any arguments will only delay her meal.

"Fine." Serena readjusts her shoulder bag as she waits for Hanssen to pack his briefcase and don his coat. Once Hanssen has locked his office, they make their way out of the hospital and to Serena's relief, they don't see any of their colleagues who would question the sight.

Hanssen's car's interior is tidier than hers has probably ever been and he has some background music quietly playing as Hanssen reverses out of his parking spot, it's barely loud enough to be heard but Serena suspects that it is to fill any awkward silences rather than for its own sake; she isn't certain but thinks that it might be Mahler and files the information away for later.

**...**

Serena grimaces as the waitress moves off, having taken their order and presumably heads towards the kitchen to deliver the order. She can only imagine the curious amusement that the restaurant's staff will have as they talk about the awkward couple on table seven.

It wasn't until they'd arrived at the restaurant and she'd stepped in through the door that Hanssen held open for her that Serena had realised how the evening could be construed. She'd suddenly felt a little awkward and although Serena had had dinner with colleagues on plenty of occasions before, they hadn't been the enigmatic and aloof Swedish Director of Surgery and the pair had sat in a slightly uncomfortable silence, perusing the menu.

Serena's eyes track the waitress' progress, hoping that the wait for food won't be too long, she can still feel her stomach rumbling again and she grudgingly turns her head back to the Swede. The temptation to do a double take is strong, not only has Hanssen apparently brought her report with them to the restaurant, she discovers that he is now in the process of reading it at the table.

"What are you doing?" Serena hisses, glancing around the restaurant, thankful that no-one else seems to be paying any interest to them. Serena looks back at Hanssen and points at the report in response to his nonplussed look.

"This is the focus of tonight's meeting, is it not, Ms. Campbell?" Hanssen's question tries her patience and Serena bites her tongue to stop her biting his head off.

"Yes it is but that doesn't mean you have to sit there and read it like... like I don't know what." Serena finishes rather tamely, wondering if the man ever thinks of anything other than work and Hanssen patiently continues to watch her, head tilted slightly to one side.

"Did you have an alternative proposal in mind?"

"Well, how about talking to one another?" Serena sarcastically mutters just loud enough for Hanssen to hear. "It's a wild idea but why don't we talk about it like _normal_ people would?"

"Why-"

"Because if you're going to just sit there and read it, I am going home." Serena's words have some effect and with barely more than a flicker in Hanssen's expression, he shuts the folder smartly.

"As you wish, Ms. Campbell." His capitulation surprises Serena and out of habit she looks around them but once more to her relief, the other diners still aren't interested in them. "So, if you would be as kind as to talk me through your report and findings?"

**...**

By the time their food arrives, the two consultants have goaded each other into two separate debates and covered the report already. All too happy to pause their slightly fractious discussion while they eat, Serena tucks into her meal. Slightly discomforted to find that by the time she has finished, Hanssen is only just over halfway through his meal but a familiar sound interrupts her minor embarrassment. Serena fishes around in her pocket for the device and her eyes focus on her mobile phone's display.

"Do you mind if I answer?" Serena asks and Hanssen shakes his head, silently resuming his meal and Serena accepts her daughter's call.

"I'm... in a meeting," she answers Eleanor's suspicious query about her whereabouts, glancing at her watch, surprised at the time.

"With the boring Swede?" Serena tries not to wince at Eleanor's words.

She hopes that Hanssen can't hear her daughter's words but his bland expression doesn't give anything away. As her daughter continues to talk, Serena watches Hanssen finish his meal and spend a few seconds arranging his cutlery to perpendicular angles to the table edge on his plate.

"Yes, I'm with Mr. Hanssen." She confirms, looking back at her watch, calculating that it will take them around fifteen minutes to get back to the hospital from the restaurant and then, assuming this morning's RTC has been cleared and the dual carriageway opened again, about 20 minutes from the hospital to her home. "I imagine we'll be finishing shortly and I should be home within the hour." Serena is about to end the call when Eleanor hurriedly makes an all-too predictable request.

"We'll talk about it when I get in. I've got to go." Serena hangs up, half wishing that Eleanor could drive instead of pestering her for lifts to Gabby's or somewhere else. However, Serena knows that if Eleanor did have her driving licence, she probably wouldn't see her daughter at all except for when Eleanor needed petrol money.

"Everything okay?" Hanssen's gentle question surprises her as she replaces her phone back into its place.

"Yes, yes, fine." Serena looks up at Hanssen. "Just my daughter deciding that her mother's role in life is as her personal and private taxi."

"I see." Hanssen has a curious expression on his face and if pushed, Serena would have said it was thoughtful, tinged with another emotion that she can't quite place.

"Yes, well." It's an unexpected glimpse of the man behind the persona and Serena immediately looks to change the subject, making a show of looking at her watch. "It's later than I realised, we should get going; aren't you going to pay?"

"Am I?" Serena thinks that Hanssen doesn't seem particularly surprised.

"It seems only fair." Serena doesn't actually mind paying for the meal or paying for her half if Hanssen wants to split the bill but she does want to try and claw back some of the points he's scored against her with these ridiculous meetings. "You insisted on the meeting so I chose the location."

"I can only wonder at the thought processes by which you arrived at that conclusion" Hanssen's slightly mocking tone of voice would normally irritate her but she forces herself not to react, merely raising an eyebrow. "Very well, as you wish, Ms. Campbell." He disappears to settle the bill and as Serena watches the long-legged Swede glide across the room she muses, to her surprise, her evening hasn't been half as bad as she would have expected.

**...**

**AN2 – Hope you enjoyed this, it's only the start :)**

**Drop me a line, let me know what you liked.**


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: I had a few continuity errors with this chapter and the time line was all over the place, it took a fair amount of re-writing to get it into some kind of flow which is the reason for the delay between updates, it happens.**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter and thank you all for your reviews so far :)**

**...**

Chapter Six.

"_You have one new message."_

The mechanical voice announces into the otherwise silent house and Serena waits for the answer phone to play the message as she shrugs off her dark, long blue coat, leaving it half-folded over the back of a chair in the kitchen. She had already toed off her boots at the front door and had padded thought the living room into the kitchen and over to the cupboards in search of a glass of something to celebrate the end of her week, a familiar voice float through from the other room.

"Rena, it's me." Serena half smiles at hearing Adrienne's voice, despite her mother's persistence with using the annoying nickname; she has long given up any hope of breaking Adrienne of the habit. "I'm hoping that you've not answered because you're out having fun but I suspect that's wishful thinking on my part and you've probably spent the evening chained to your desk at work as usual."

Serena huffs in amusement and for once she can issue something more than a half-hearted denial to the otherwise empty kitchen as she pours a small glass of Shiraz before eyeing the bottle and adding a little more wine – it is Friday after all.

"You need to relax more and work less," her mother continues and Serena rolls her eyes at the well-meant advice. Serena remains silent, not bothering to point out that if she didn't do the work then it wouldn't get done and the hospital would grind to a halt, besides, nagging is a mother's prerogative and no-one except Adrienne would dare nag Serena.

"Anyway, give me a call when it's convenient and tell that granddaughter of mine that it wouldn't kill her to call me either."

"And if I ever see that granddaughter of yours, I'll be sure to tell her." Serena mutters to herself as Adrienne goes to ring off.

"Oh, one more thing Rena, your birthday is coming up soon-"

"Not for another few weeks." Serena responds instantly despite knowing full well that Adrienne can't hear her; Serena's mother has always been proactive in that regard, to the point of over-zealousness, having birthday and Christmas presents sorted long before the event for as long as Serena can remember.

"Let me know if there's anything you'd like or I'll just raid the nearest off-licence. Again." Serena can't help but smile at the mock-annoyance in her mother's voice.

"_That was your last message."_

The disembodied voice cuts into the silence, signalling the end of Adrienne's phone call just as Serena heads back into the living room, wine glass in hand.

"_To replay the message, key 1; to save the message, key 2; to delete the message, key 3."_

Serena's finger hovers over 3 but at the last moment she presses 2 and saves the message, thinking that with any luck, at some point Eleanor will listen to it and may just feel compelled to ring her grandmother. Making her way over to the sofa and with a wry smile on her face, Serena tries to imagine Adrienne's reaction if she was to casually mention tonight's dinner with Henrik Hanssen.

Serena is certain that her mother wouldn't believe it.

'Hell', thinks Serena, 'if anyone had suggested when Hanssen appeared five or six weeks ago that the two of them would have had dinner on a Friday night and that it would be almost enjoyable, a psych referral would be the least of their worries'. Serena would probably have had them sectioned.

As it is, only six weeks after Hanssen's sudden return to Holby, the hospital's two most senior consultants found themselves having dinner, a strictly professional dinner – the initially forced conversation never even came close to straying from the NHS – and Serena can barely believe that she barely felt the usual urge to strangle Hanssen.

Careful to put her glass of wine down on a coaster on the coffee table, Serena tiredly clears a space on the sofa for herself, moving Eleanor's clothes and magazines which inevitably end up strewn all over the house irrespective of how much Serena nags her. The house is silent and there had been no answer when Serena had called up the stairs when she finally got in the door, having collected her car from the hospital when Hanssen dropped her off and so she assumes that her daughter managed to get a lift from someone else and has gone out to a party as is her wont.

Eleanor's clutter at least makes the house look more like a home, look more lived-in than Serena could probably achieve by herself – she spends too much time at work to make more than a superficial effort. The one person who possibly spends as much time at the hospital as she does is Henrik Hanssen and Serena briefly wonders whether his house is as spartan as his office as she idly flips through the pages of one of Eleanor's magazines, rolling her eyes at some of the rubbish that's actually been printed.

When Hanssen forgot to be punctilious and Swedishly annoying, distracted by the lure of a half decent conversation, he was an engaging conversationalist. The debates they'd had tonight about the report that she had written, for example, had allowed an almost hitherto unforeseen passion for medicine to emerge from the enigmatic and intensely private man. It was something which Serena didn't appreciate at the time, too busy trying to hold her own in the debates. Serena takes a sip of wine and fingers her ever-present necklace as she muses that the man's passion for medicine shouldn't come as a surprise to her, his career would not have had its meteoric rise otherwise but there is no denying that it's well hidden.

'Perhaps the change in scenery helped', thinks Serena as she takes another sip of wine, adjusting a cushion behind her lower back. The man's office faintly screams, 'work, work, work' and aside from the rather odd silver fish he has on his desk, the room is almost devoid of the usual personal effects which tend to creep into permanent work spaces. 'Not that the infuriating man was any better at the restaurant', Serena recalls the way the man sat casually reading the report as she fumed, in danger of creating a scene.

Serena knows that she is bad for working all hours but she has Eleanor and Adrienne to nag her when Serena becomes too work-oriented. She wonders briefly if Hanssen has anyone to tell him to take a step back and relax before reminding herself not to feel sorry for the man, that he is the same man who stole her job, condemned her to the Friday night meetings _and_ put her on probation.

'No', Serena decides, even if her mother did believe her, she'd not be convinced that it was all as professional as it was and it would be too much effort to correct her. She goes to take a another sip of her drink and is disquieted to find that her glass is already empty and a quick look at the clock reveals that it's later than she thought and suddenly feeling quite tired, Serena heads to bed, today has been a very long day.

**...**

"Hello stranger, " a familiar voice sounds from the doorway and Serena looks up at its owner, distracted from the scan she'd been looking at on one of AAU's iPads.

"Ah, Mr. Cunningham," Serena greets the Chairman of the Trust with a stock smile as her spirits sink – she should have guessed that he might seek her out and she suddenly regrets (although she is careful not to let it show) letting Michael take the emergency appendectomy fifteen minutes ago. "What brings you down to AAU?"

"Call me Terrance," he insists with a self-assured smile that reminds Serena of her ex-husband. "I came to see you. Busy morning?" He asks, still smirking as he enters the office and swans over to the second desk opposite her without any apparent care in the world.

"When isn't it?" Serena responds – she hadn't been invited to the meeting this morning, apparently being the author of the report being discussed wasn't enough to merit her inclusion. However, a busy morning on AAU had lessened her annoyance at the unexpected snub after the senior consultants meeting and she concedes that she probably would have been summoned away from the meeting anyway and there was also no small amount of relief at not being caught between Hanssen and Cunningham's usual and tedious alpha male routines.

"I can see you've been busy," Cunningham comments, settling into Michael's chair and moving his gaze over the visible part of the ward briefly before he looks back at Serena. "Although I had rather hoped to bump into you at the meeting earlier."

"Apparently my presence wasn't needed." Serena comments, not trying particularly hard to hide her frustration.

"Well, there were no objections from me," Cunningham lightly replies, "you're much easier on the eyes than the old Swedish stick in the mud." Serena forces a smile onto her face despite the realisation that it was solely Hanssen who made the decision to exclude Serena; although she doesn't believe the man would stoop as low as stealing her work, Serena wants to know what the man is playing at and resolves to ask him in no uncertain terms at the next opportunity.

"Ms. Campbell, I've got the-" Dr. Tressler, AAU's CT2 stops as he realises Serena isn't alone and he clears his throat before briefly explaining that he has the results for a particularly troublesome patient and Serena confirms that she'll be over as soon as she has looked at them. She can see Harry looking curiously at Cunningham but a glare is enough to send the young doctor out of the office.

"As you can see, we are busy." Serena deliberately uses the present tense in an effort to drop a hint large enough for the Chairman to pick up on.

"Yes of course. Well, it was just a flying visit to fill you in on what Henrik and I discussed." The chairman promptly launches into telling Serena that her report was well-received and some of the suggestions certainly merit further investigation, if not trial implementation.

"I do have a couple of questions," Serena barely resists the urge to roll her eyes, Hanssen would have been capable of answering any queries but Serena would bet that ever-obvious Cunningham didn't ask the Director of Surgery. "Perhaps we could discuss them over a drink or two?"

"Perhaps." Serena replies cagily, not particularly wanting to go for drinks with the man although a mischievous part of her is tempted to suggest Friday evening just to ruffle Hanssen's feathers.

**…**

Serena hadn't been sure what to expect at the end of the week but to her surprise Hanssen had appeared in the Keller Consultants' office about 15 minutes before they were due to meet on Friday evening. It was the first time she had seen the elusive Swede since Monday. She had remained silent, looking back down at the form she'd been reading; she isn't obliged to meet Hanssen for another quarter of an hour.

"Our meeting-"

"Isn't for another fifteen minutes." Serena comments without looking up. Whatever Hanssen wants to say, Serena is not inclined to make it easy for him.

"Ms. Campbell." Hanssen's voice is initially firm and Serena slowly raises her gaze to him and waits, admittedly curious to know what he wants. It seems to take Hanssen a couple of moments to choose his words and Serena stares at him, trying to guess.

"I find myself in a similar position to yours last week," Hanssen glances around the office as he speaks. "My meeting this afternoon ran over to such an extent that..."

'Just spit it out', Serena thinks to herself.

"Would you be adverse to a repeat of last week's solution?" Serena blinks twice in rapid succession, it took a moment or two but she realised what Hanssen is trying to say and her lips quirk at the man's tangled request.

"You want to go to dinner again?" Serena clarifies and Hanssen nods once.

"Contrary to hospital gossip, I do need to eat and sleep." The man's unexpected comment raises a smile and although Serena doesn't question Hanssen's ability to walk in sunlight or whether he likes garlic, she gets the distinct impression that Hanssen knows what she is thinking.

She frowns as she tries to think of a suitable restaurant, not wanting to eat at the same place twice in two weeks if she can help it as she reaches under her desk for her bag. "What kind of food were you thinking of?" She asks awkwardly tugging the bag free.

"I did already have somewhere in mind."Serena looks up in surprise, her week-long annoyance with the man in front of her temporarily forgotten with the sudden reappearance of the slightly awkward, uncomfortable and intriguing version of the man she got a brief glimpse of last week.

"It's not McDonald's is it?" She queries in an innocent tone, referring to their conversation the previous week, making the most of the chance to tease the off-balance man.

"Most certainly not." Hanssen glares at her and Serena laughs as she puts her long blue overcoat on, oblivious to the way she is being watched and the two consultants make their way out of the office, ward and hospital, heading over to Hanssen's car in unspoken agreement.

**...**

"So, was there any particular reason why _you_ didn't want me at Monday's meeting?" Serena asks once they're seated at the restaurant and Hanssen looks at her over the top of his menu. Usually Serena would have confronted Hanssen immediately about her deliberate exclusion on Monday, she had thought about charging up to the fifth floor but in the end, she'd made the decision to bide her time; whilst she can terrify almost everyone else at the hospital with her direct approach, when dealing with Hanssen, it's a delicate process of moves and counter-moves. "Because Terrance was somewhat surprised by my absence." Hanssen's expression is inscrutable as he lowers the menu, taking a sip of water before replacing his glass on the table as he answers.

"The report is of not insignificant importance to both the short and long term futures of the hospital." It takes Serena a second or two to translate Hanssen's convoluted words into standard English. "I wished to ensure that the Chairman's full attention was upon it."

"That doesn't answer my question. Surely my presence would have been beneficial?" Serena asks, pointing out what should have been obvious to the man. "As it was, more time was wasted when he had to come and find me after your meeting to get some questions answered – not exactly representative of the efficient service we're looking to implement."

"I don't doubt that he sought you out." Hanssen's comment is quiet, barely loud enough for her to hear but a lull in the ambient music means she does catch Hanssen's words and Serena's irritation is back – she's annoyed with herself as well as at Hanssen; she had rather thought that after six weeks of working together that his distrust may have lessened but apparently not.

"Well, at least Terrance was kind enough to bother to let me know what was discussed." Serena retorts and Hanssen purses his lips, his own response prevented by the arrival of the waiter to take their order.

As Serena watches the man head off with their order, she muses that at this rate, the two of them won't be able to step foot into any restaurant in Holby without their reputation preceding them and without the menus to provide a distraction, the two sit in a slightly awkward silence.

After a few tense minutes, Serena breaks the silence – they might as well get on with their meeting or she won't get home until late. Again.

"I think we need to address certification issues amongst staff. Certain senior members of staff who shall remain nameless," Serena mutters but she imagines that Hanssen is aware she is referring to Ric Griffin, "have had allowed things to lapse and it's unforgivable, especially if we are to excel as a teaching hospital." Hanssen, who had been staring at the table raises his gaze to hers.

"I see." Hanssen reaches out to take another sip of his water, regarding Serena thoughtfully. "I agree."

"We need to ensure that all necessary certification is up to date – I have drawn up a list of departments between us," Serena explains what she has done and what still remains to be done. "In terms of the cost of this exercise..." She is interrupted by the arrival of their food and she pauses as they are served. There is a minute or two of silence as they tuck into their meal and Serena finds herself hungrier than she'd thought, however, she soon picks up from where she'd left off.

By the time she has finished speaking, Hanssen is nodding, apparently in agreement with her and he calmly withdraws sheet of paper from inside his jacket and passes it towards Serena, around her drink.

"It appears we aren't that different after all, Ms. Campbell." Serena picks it up, it's handwritten which is a nice change from the constant typed notes she gets and Hanssen's handwriting is a vast improvement on Ric and Michael's scrawl and she notes that he has done exactly the same thing as she has.

She can't help but grimace.

"Why did you let me talk about all of this if you had already done the same thing?" Serena is certain that five weeks ago, he'd have cut her off immediately, loftily demonstrating that he'd already done it all in an effort to remind her who is the boss. Now she isn't entirely sure what to think, the man is more confusing than ever.

**…**

"Why do we meet now?" Serena asks a question which has been on her mind for several weeks as Hanssen stops at a red light, the car engine purring and Serena makes a mental note to get her car looked at – it doesn't sound healthy. As far as she is concerned any other day would be an infinitely better option for them to meet rather than 7pm on a Friday – Hanssen's suggestion.

"I'm not certain I follow," Hanssen looks a little confused, his eyes narrowing slightly behind his glasses as he waits for the lights to change.

"Well, how about instead of silly o'clock on Friday," Serena spots the moment that Hanssen comprehends what she is saying and he looks over at her and Serena makes a conscious effort to not fidget under the Swede's scrutiny. "Why don't we meet on a Wednesday for example?"

"You would be willing to sacrifice your theatre slots on Wednesday afternoon?"

"Of course not." Serena retorts, not entirely sure how Hanssen has reached that as a possible solution.

"I see." He taps the steering wheel with his fingers with no particular rhythm until he becomes aware he is being watched and he stops tapping. Hanssen's facial expression is almost blank, in fact he looks quite bored but Serena suddenly realises that it usually means the enigmatic Swede is trying to hide something. If the man is bored, he often feigns a look of interest. The realisation stops her thoughts in their tracks and she struggles to remember what she was thinking.

"And when else would you propose?" Hanssen's softly spoken question makes Serena wary, as straightforward a question as it seems, she can't help but suspect it's some kind of trap. After a moment, she settles for a minor deflection.

"It seems illogical to meet about the hospital and upcoming issues at the end of the working week." Hanssen nods thoughtfully, inclining his head to acknowledge Serena's point and repeats his question.

"And when else would you propose?" Serena inhales and decides to go for it, if she starts on the offensive, she may wrestle the momentum away from Hanssen before he can lay his traps and reclaim her Friday nights.

"Well, how about the _start_ of the week?"

"Monday morning is known as 'the war zone' for a reason," Hanssen calmly offers, referring to the deluge of patients admitted over the weekend. "And there is the Senior Consultants meeting at 1100 which you should be aware of, as you attend said meeting." Serena purses her lips.

"Monday afternoons then." She suggests, determined to get her Friday nights back.

"Monday afternoons you are the consultant on call for the acute admissions ward – a ward which cannot afford to spare a surgeon of your calibre for the likely duration of our meetings." Serena blinks, not entirely sure whether Hanssen has just paid her a compliment. "I have theatre slots on Keller that afternoon anyhow and am unwilling to give them up. Tuesday morning finds us in the same situation as Monday afternoon." Hanssen goes on to explain and Serena is starting to wonder if the man has an answer for every minute of the week.

"One assumes you do not wish to give up your own electives on Tuesday or Wednesday afternoons." Hanssen doesn't wait for Serena to answer before continuing but she shakes her head anyway, lest he attempt to cancel her electives to prove a point. "Wednesday morning is taken up with the steering committee and budgetary meetings and at that point in time, I have no desire to sit through another meeting of any description." Hanssen's dry comment provokes a small smile, there have been several occasions when Serena has sat in these meetings for Hanssen when she has wondered if 'death by meeting' would be an accepted by the coroner for her cause of death.

"Thursday morning is dedicated to clinical skills, something Mr. Malick will attest to." Hanssen's tone suggests that the meetings aren't always smooth, the two surgeons are almost poles apart and their approaches often clash. "I have theatre slots in the afternoon and you are on AAU. Friday morning finds you in theatre on Keller and in the afternoon I am subject to the latest ideas from our own Professor Hope and Professor Pawlowski from the University. Neither of whom are known for their brevity."

"Which leaves us with Friday evenings." Hanssen finishes, timing his explanation to coincide with their return to the hospital grounds. And Serena, aware that her mouth is open slightly, closes it. She doesn't know what to make of the fact that Hanssen not only has his week memorised, but hers as well.

"Right." Serena responds, not quite sure what to say and she bids Hanssen a good weekend, getting into her own car on autopilot. Just as she thinks she is beginning to understand him, the man does something completely unexpected and replaying the evening in her mind, it's only later, when she gets home does Serena realise that Hanssen had already booked the table at the restaurant and that his cover story about the overrunning meeting doesn't add up.

**…**

**AN2: Curiouser and curiouser. What is Hanssen up to?**

**Would love to know what you thought :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: There's a bit of necessary fast-forwarding in this chapter or we'll be here 'till Christmas and I'd like to have this story wrapped up long before then.**

**I've had a couple of pieces of feedback over the previous chapter or two, wondering when Serena is going to realise quite what the Friday evening meetings are all about... I'm working on a suitable 'Eureka' moment (as it were (suggestions always welcome)) but I think it will be slightly more gradual than that, starting with a little introspection at the start of this chapter and a surprise for her at the end. In my mind, as far as Serena is concerned, Hanssen is only just starting to tolerate her; she stole his job from him and so she believes that he doesn't trust her and she hasn't seen (or acknowledged) anything from him to indicate otherwise. The dinners so far have been about work and anything else she is attributing to Hanssen's oddities. **

**Having said at the start that this story would be around ten chapters... I can say now that that was wildly optimistic of me, we're probably only around halfway now. There's more to follow, folks.**

**Hope you enjoy this chapter, I would, as always, love to know what you think. Loving all of your reviews so far :)**

**Enjoy.**

**...**

Chapter Seven.

The next couple of weeks pass quickly, the start of the year and all its upsets fading away into an increasingly distant memory; Eleanor is currently away visiting her Dad for a few days down in Poole during her college's half-term. Serena knows all too well that Edward is almost certainly letting their daughter stay up unnecessarily late, plying her with junk food and rapidly undoing what little headway with discipline that she has managed to instil into Eleanor.

In response, Serena finds herself working late almost every night so that she doesn't have to sit in an empty house with nothing but a glass of wine or two for company as she ties herself in knots, thinking about what irresponsible stupidity is currently happening in Poole, about whether Edward's new wife is there, about whether Eleanor and Edward are happy without her.

However, she receives an unexpected bonus on Monday after the senior consultants' meeting; Hanssen had asked her to remain and when the conference room door eventually closed behind Professor Hope, the Swede had looked up from rearranging his papers.

"I will be unable to make our meeting on Friday." He states and if Serena didn't know better, she'd have said there was a hint of disappointment in Hanssen's expression and she fights the urge to roll her eyes at the man's apparent obsession with his work. "The Department of Health require my input about a possible contribution towards an upcoming public health position statement."

"Right," Serena responds, her mind flicking back to Hanssen's very public criticism of the Government only a few months ago, apparently forgotten or forgiven. "Well, In that case, I'll do my best to make sure the hospital doesn't fall down before you return."

"Indeed. Much obliged, Ms. Campbell." Whatever emotion Serena thought she saw is gone, Hanssen's expression once more inscrutable.

All in all, Hanssen's summons to the Department of Health had worked out in Serena's favour, despite his absence condemning her to a ridiculously tedious midweek meeting about the need for an ecologically friendly method for disposal of hospital waste, this is the earliest she has made it home on a Friday night all year. Eleanor was due back from Poole around lunchtime and Serena, not aware of any problems with the trains between Poole and Holby was looking forward to seeing her daughter again.

However, as soon as she steps through her front door, Serena almost trips over a pair of Eleanor's shoes left haphazardly in the middle of the hall, cursing as she nearly spills the bag of Chinese takeaway she'd spontaneously purchased to celebrate a rare Friday night off.

"Eleanor!" Serena shouts up the stairs but doesn't receive any reply. The house is as silent as it has been all week and Serena can feel her spirits sink as she guesses what has happened. Kicking Eleanor's shoes over to one side, she heads into the kitchen to deposit their dinner and warm a plate for herself.

A couple of text messages and noisy phone call later and Serena's suspicions are confirmed – Eleanor has returned from Poole and headed out to a party, having grabbed a bite to eat. Serena soon finds the plate left haphazardly in the sink and she huffs in frustration, wondering if spending just one evening with her daughter is too much to ask for.

"Dinner for one," Serena drawls to herself as she tidies up the evidence of Eleanor's brief occupation, pours herself a glass of wine and dishes up her meal, "and wine for three."

As Serena moves the portion of rapidly cooling sweet and sour chicken around her plate with her fork, pausing every so often to reluctantly consume a piece, she muses that this evening's lonely takeaway dinner in front of the TV doesn't have the same appeal as matching wits with Hanssen across a table.

A short while later, as Serena is scraping the remains of her dinner into the bin, she catches herself thinking about the two meetings they've had away from the hospital and coming to the uncomfortable realisation that dinner with Henrik Hanssen has been the social highlight of her past fortnight.

The once űber social Serena McKinnie has become Serena Campbell, a workaholic divorcee in her late 40s with a teenage daughter that she never sees, enough paperwork to cover half of the south downs and the only even vaguely sociable events in her diary have been work meetings with the hospital's borderline robotic boss.

The sobering realisation stops her short and Serena accidentally drops her fork into the bin.

"Bloody hell," she grumbles, grimacing as she reaches into the bin to retrieve the discarded item of cutlery, trying to avoid touching anything else. "I need to be taken out and shot," she mutters, briefly wanting someone to put her out of her misery before she turns into the female version of Henrik Hanssen.

'Or maybe you need to find yourself a man, Rena?' Serena's subconscious offers, the voice sounding like a disconcerting mixture of her mother and Michael Spence. 'Get yourself on a couple of dates, try and avoid expiring on the scrapheap just yet'.

Not that Serena has any idea where she would find the time for a couple of dates, let alone find a willing man who she could talk to, who wouldn't require her to stop and explain the big words in every other sentence, someone who understands the volume of hours she works and most importantly, someone who isn't answerable to Serena professionally, which is becoming rather more difficult as her career progresses. Serena snorts rather inelegantly, glad she is on her own in the house when the only man she can think of who meets those criteria is Hanssen himself and she mentally raises a depressing toast to the almost certain demise of her love life.

**…**

"Ugh."

A slightly uncoordinated hand reaches out to turn the blaring alarm off and Serena groans as she remains propped up on her elbows, gazing blearily at the familiar room.

Yesterday had been her birthday.

Serena didn't announce the occasion but somehow, Michael Spence still managed to find out and began to insist on some kind of post-shift celebration. Serena had dismissed his first suggestion instantly but the American continued undeterred, even going as far as to recruit some of the younger staff to pester her until Serena caved to their demands, allowing herself to be dragged to Albie's once the shifts changed for 'a drink'.

The drink she'd been promised had quickly become a couple more, however, it was a good evening, something that she needed to raise her slightly flagging spirits over the past couple of weeks.

In the taxi home, Serena had been secretly pleased to realise that she hadn't paid for a single drink all evening but this morning, in the cold, unforgiving darkness of 6am, Michael's idea didn't seem so clever. Her only comfort was the thought that the other staff would hopefully feel just as hungover, if not a little worse; collapsing back onto her pillow, Serena allows herself a final moment of relaxation before she throws back the covers, substituting her warm bed for cool work clothes as her day gets under-way.

**…**

Serena steps out of the taxi, wincing slightly as an ambulance screeches to a halt outside the hospital's Wyvern entrance, blues and twos still blaring as they unload a patient into Ms. Effanga's care. Having collected her bag from her own car, Serena pinches the bridge of her nose, she has a packet of paracetamol in her desk which she intends to use.

She is part way through lecturing herself about not drinking during the week when a shout gets her attention and Serena turns to find a rather worse-for-wear Michael Spence heading towards her. Serena fixes a smug look to her face, determined not to let her own discomfort show.

"Michael," she greets the American in a sing-song voice, designed to mask how she feels. "Do you really feel as bad as you look?"

"Funny." Michael responds to her teasing, rubbing a hand over his face before squinting at her as they make their way into the foyer. "How do you not look as bad as you should?" He returns Serena's question in kind, signalling to the girl behind the counter for coffee.

'Years of practice', Serena's mind supplies but she ignores the sarcastic voice.

"_I_ left at a reasonable hour, well, a relatively reasonable hour." She amends, it wasn't exactly early but either way it looks like it was long before the others left.

She doesn't envy Michael today, dealing with the bustle and fuss of AAU and she's glad she's on Keller today. Taking a brief sip of the drink Michael hands to her, the two consultants follow a nurse into the lift when it arrives. Serena purposefully elbows the American when she sees where he is looking.

"Don't do that, Rena, my head might-" Michael stops, looking over Serena's shoulder and she turns to find the Swedish Director of Surgery hovering in the doorway just behind her watching their interaction. Serena steps to one side, allowing Hanssen to enter the lift before the doors close and the Swede stands between her and Michael; Hanssen nods in response to her polite greeting and as the lift carriage, his gaze moves away from Serena across to the American and Serena can just about see a frown appear.

"A word, Mr. Spence." Serena can't help but smirk to herself as the two men step out towards AAU, Hanssen's surprisingly graceful gait capturing her attention until the silver doors shut.

Serena continues up to Keller, however, her improved mood lasts until she gets into theatre; usually a haven of tranquillity, she'd offered Digby the opportunity to observe the procedure, however, Serena regrets her actions when the F1 decides to talk her through the procedure, reciting his textbook word-for-word, causing her headache to return. A sharp comment silences the junior doctor and when they are eventually done, Serena gratefully heads to the sanctuary of her office and manages to swallow a couple of paracetamol without letting Ric see.

For once pleased that she is on paperwork duty, Serena settles herself down to work her way through the ever-present stack of paper on the right hand corner of her desk.

**...**

Just before 7pm, Serena finds herself walking out of the hospital with Hanssen; she hadn't been particularly surprised when the man had appeared in her office around ten or fifteen minutes ago. In fact, she was surprisingly amiable to Hanssen's speculative suggestion and go for another meal, her appetite, which had been absent for most of the day had begun to make itself known again in the last hour.

As they step out into the cold, dark night, Serena muses that a pattern appears to be establishing itself between them and it hasn't escaped Serena's notice, how much Hanssen craves his routines. In fact, Serena is so caught up in thinking about the man's eccentricities that she doesn't notice when another person suddenly comes barrelling around the corner, causing Serena to stumble as they clip her on their way past.

She regains her footing, aware that Hanssen had caught her, his hand on her back had probably stopped her from falling as he steered her away from the other person's path.

"Nurse Carter." Hanssen appears to have identified the blur and attempts to reprimand the Irish nurse who Serena imagines is almost certainly late again for her shift but the nurse barely stops, calling out an apology over her shoulder before disappearing into the building.

Hanssen still hasn't removed his hand and Serena is acutely aware of the slight pressure against her lower back; she glares belatedly at the main Wyvern entrance but the nurse has long since vanished into the brightly lit foyer. Serena feels the pressure increase a little and she allows Hanssen to guide her away from the hospital entrance over to his car, not relinquishing his hold until they reach the black Volvo when Hanssen steps away, moving around to the driver's side of the car.

Serena mutters about the nurse's unreliability and although Hanssen probably can't pick out her words, he seems to understand the gist of her muttered comments. Hanssen surprises Serena, telling her about the first time he met Chantelle Lane and the ridiculous story makes Serena laugh as she gets into the car, feeling more comfortable in Hanssen's presence than she can ever remember.

Hanssen backs the car out of his assigned parking space and as they leave, neither of them notice the silhouette who is intently staring after them, suspicion and confusion evident on their face.

**...**

To Serena's relief, she and Hanssen didn't have their almost signature awkward silence at the restaurant; an off-hand comment by Serena sparked a good natured tête-à-tête between them, busy debating the merits of their choices and offering slightly dry comments about the other's selection, the usual friction remained strangely absent.

The roads surrounding this week's choice of restaurant had been quite busy and Hanssen elected to park a couple of minutes walk away instead of heading for a confrontation by fighting for a parking space, as Serena would probably have done. By the time she and Hanssen leave the restaurant, empty spaces have opened up along most of their route but Serena remains silent, tempted as she is to point it out, she does not wish to upset the fragile accord they have developed.

Unlike when they are at work, their pace almost quickstep as they charge from one case to another, tonight they are able to walk at a more relaxed speed, Hanssen having shortened his stride to accommodate Serena and the two of them make their way back along the street, retracing their earlier steps.

After a couple of minutes in the cold early spring evening, they reach Hanssen's car and Serena pauses by the front passenger door, stood on the pavement waiting for Hanssen to unlock the car and step out into the road so he can climb into the driver's seat. When the door remains locked, Serena looks up at the impossibly tall Swede whose expression indicates he is contemplating something.

"Mr. Hanssen?" Serena's use of his name seems to catch Hanssen's attention.

"I was not aware until this morning that birthday congratulations are in order." Serena is surprised by his words and is momentarily flummoxed, wondering how he found out.

"Well, it wasn't really important," Serena begins, imagining that the state of the AAU staff this morning was the clue and she plays down the day's importance, not quite sure what Hanssen is going to say. "Just another day."

"Nevertheless, Ms. Campbell," Hanssen responds, "I wish you a happy, if somewhat belated birthday."

"Well, I, err, thank you. I suppose it could either be a little late..."

Serena's eyes widen almost comically as Hanssen steps towards her and brushes a perfectly polite and unremarkable kiss against her cheek before straightening up and regarding her rather intently. It takes her a moment to realises that Hanssen is waiting for her to finish what she was saying. "Or, umm, it could be a very early birthday wish for next year." Serena quips, trying to cover her surprise.

"Quite so." Hanssen offers her a small smile, a far cry from his usual smirk and it transforms his face.

The journey back to the hospital is spent trying to ignore the memory and sensation of Hanssen's lips on her skin combined with the brief hint of mint shampoo she'd caught from him. It isn't long before they're back at the hospital so that Serena can retrieve her car and she gathers her bag as Hanssen brakes smoothly.

"Thank you." Serena offers Hanssen a polite smile a she doesn't know whether to be offended or amused that her actions have elicited such surprise from the man.

"Enjoy your weekend, Ms. Campbell." Hanssen nods stiffly and Serena responds in kind and for the first time, she means it.

It's only later, when she gets home that Serena realises that they barely talked about work this evening.

**…**

**AN: The plot thickens. Would love to know what you thought :) **

**Next time – our mystery silhouette confronts Serena. **


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